Lydia & Deucalion
by kevinlucis
Summary: I haven't picked a title yet for the story, but hopefully I will figure that out soon. This is a Lydia/Deucalion slash. I hope to also focus on the sexual tension between Derek and Stiles, because I can't help myself. The Prologue is a quick foreshadow, Chapter One is a quick flashback.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

"_You see me,_" Lydia whispered, desperately trying to keep her composure.

"I am blind." Deucalion responded in a definite tone, turning his head towards the full moon as it reflected vividly on his black aviators. Lydia felt his awareness like cold air surrounding her. He sensed her, and he understood everything about her.

"Nobody sees me," Lydia said as she stared at his white cane.

"Nobody?" Deucalion questioned.

She looked up at Deucalion as if he wasn't blind and responded, "Nobody... except you."


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

* * *

_Thursday, 12:00 PM_

_May 5__th__, 2005_

_New York, New York_

Walking down the crowded street, Lydia Martin had her head point straight towards the clouds, completely losing sight of everything around her. She couldn't comprehend how perfect they were, like a beautiful painting that belonged in a museum. Lydia believed the beauty of nature was more complex than a human could ever recreate. "Real art is found in nature," she whispered as she passed by a street artist.

"Aren't the skyscrapers wonderful, honey?" Lydia's Mom asked as she was frantically searching for a place to sit down.

"Sort of." She blankly responded

"What do you mean sort of?" Lydia's Mom questioned, "You've been staring at them since we got here!"

"No, Mom" Lydia corrected, "The sky. I've been looking at the clouds."

Lydia's Mother didn't respond, unsurprisingly, but quickly ran towards an empty bench, pulling Lydia's hand along with her like a dog on a leash. Lydia immediately pulled back her hand, desperately trying to show her defiance. "A ten year old does not need to hold anybody's hand," she mumbled to herself. Classifying Lydia as a ten year old was just misleading, though, because she had the intelligence of somebody twice her age. Lydia even felt more mature than her parents. She ended up being the mediator in all of their fights. The bitterness between her parents was like an infection slowly taking over her, and even at such a young age she was convinced that true love just doesn't exist. In order to calm her mind, she looked back up towards the sky.

"They are amazing, aren't they?" Lydia heard her dad question as he tried to catch his breath.

"Yes-" Lydia began to say as she kept her focus on the clouds.

"If you look closely," Mr. Martin interrupted as he pointed his finger in the other direction, "You can see part of the Empire State Building right over there."

"Is _every_ thought you have just a random assumption?" Mrs. Martin targeted at her husband before Lydia could say anything to correct him, "She is clearly looking at the clouds."

Lydia just kept her eyes on the sky; she wasn't going to be a part of their argument. It's not like her Mom didn't assume the same thing as her dad, and it's not like her Mom cared anyway, but it's not like it even matters. _Nothing _they say really matters.

"We're in New York City for Christ's sake it's not unreasonable to assume somebody is admiring the architecture!" Mr. Martin argued, rolling his eyes and every movement his wife made.

"Oh, so it's her fault?" Mrs. Martin questioned.

"Whose fault?" Mr. Martin asked.

"Did you forget your daughter was here?" Mrs. Martin responded, trying to raise her voice to make sure Lydia could hear it, "Are you just trying to blame Lydia for every false assumption you make?"

"Wha-" Mr. Martin was so baffled he couldn't form a complete sentence, "-um are you ki-" And this just continued on, as it always did.

Lydia didn't pay them any attention, though, because for every irrational thought they had, she always knew the truth. For every false accusation made, Lydia understood the facts. It was a constant game of Cat-and-Mouse between her parents. Lydia felt like she was watching a pathetic TV show, without any ability to change the channel. However, she always knows how to find distractions. Knowledge was her escape from the animosity. Understanding the world distracted her from something she could never understand: her parents.

Lydia heard her Father's cell phone ring. The argument came to a halt.

"I have to go now." Lydia's Father stated without showing any emotion.

"Then go." Mrs. Martin directed, as if Lydia wasn't with them. Lydia's Mother remained quiet as she took out her phone and began typing in somebody's phone number. Lydia watched as father faded into the distance of strangers.

"Where is he going?" Lydia questioned.

"Business meeting." Mrs. Martin answered, clearly more concerned about something else. She put the phone to her ear and waited, while tapping her foot, visibly showed her impatience. "Of course he wouldn't answer," She said before pressing another button her phone, "Hello, Mark, this is Carrie Ann Martin calling…again. This is the last call I'm going to make. You have my number, call me back, or you will no longer be working with us on the case. Goodbye."

"What are we doing tonight?" Lydia asked as soon as her Mom put away her phone.

"Nothing." Mrs. Martin stated as she brushed dust off of her pants.

"But what about my birthday?" Lydia asked.


End file.
